


I Don't Like You [That's Okay]

by Red_City



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Arguing, Both of them are assholes and they love it, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Boys Kissing, Derek Feels, Derek Needs To Use His Words, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, I don't like you, M/M, Not Beta Read, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Stiles Feels, Top Derek, assholes, it's more like a misunderstanding, out of nowhere really, vague and very brief non-con, yeeeeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 19:15:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2399753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_City/pseuds/Red_City
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"At least I know how to shut up. So SHUT UP.”</p><p><span class="u">That</span> had been the fatal blow. Derek could look back now and confirm - that had been his downfall. That had been the moment that changed everything, because in response, Stiles had simply said, "Make me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Like You [That's Okay]

Afterwards, Stiles claims that he had been expecting it - seen it coming, knew it was bound to happen. Derek would roll his eyes and hide his knowing smile in Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles hadn’t been expecting it at all, and had admitted as much. Derek had been the one thinking about it, dreaming about it, yearning for it - but had never allowed the expectation of those longings to manifest into reality. 

\---

“What is your PROBLEM, man? Like, I know you were raised by wolves, actual wolves, but you could fucking articulate instead of grunting disapproval all the time.”

“Sorry I don’t talk enough for you - but then again, you talk enough for the both of us. The whole pack, even. You never. Fucking. SHUT UP.”

Stiles didn’t even know how the argument started, and they were here again, shooting barbs at each other rather than whatever it was that had been bothering the two of them. This is how they always were, the issue dissolving into quips and sharp sarcasm, trying to rile the other up until the inevitable storm-off. This time, though, Derek wasn’t backing down. He was practically growling, vibrating with rage, hands clenched at his side. Stiles could see a small trickle of red dripping between Derek’s fingers; he was so angry his claws were coming out and he was slicing into his own palms.

“Chill the fuck out, dude, you’re bleeding.”

Derek looked down and seemed surprised to find Stiles was right, but still looked up angry, glaring at Stiles. 

“It’s my blood, I’ll do what I want with it.”

“That is the most immature thing you have ever said. Wait, no, just kidding, I’m forgetting every other thing that comes out of your mouth.”

“I’m surprised you can even remember anything I’ve said because it’s impossible to get a word in edgewise around you.”

“At least I TALK. If someone didn’t know you they’d think you didn’t actually speak English.”

“I don’t give a shit. At least I know how to shut up. So SHUT UP.”

That had been the fatal blow. Derek could look back now and confirm - that had been his downfall. That had been the moment that changed everything, because in response, Stiles had simply said, "Make me."

Derek was moving before the last word was completely out of Stiles’ mouth, and caught the end of it on his own. Stiles tasted sweet and hot, and Derek was instantly addicted. For a moment, the world stopped and Stiles gasped in surprise, opening his lips. Derek only took that as an invitation to push further, which made Stiles sigh, pushing back. Derek smiled into the kiss, which broke whatever spell Stiles had been under, and he shoved against Derek's chest with both hands, looking flustered and angry all at the same time.

"What the fuck, Derek?! I don't like you!" 

"That's okay," Derek said, and pulled Stiles in once more by his hips. There was too little resistance for Derek to be worried about it. Stiles hands were suddenly buried in Derek's hair and Derek had one leg pressed between Stiles' and then they were against the wall, pressing deeper into each other. It didn't last, though. Inevitably, Stiles started talking again. 

"Wait," he said, pulling away and breathing hard. Derek smirked. "Does this mean you like me?"

"Ugh. No," Derek said, making a face, and this time Stiles smirked. 

"That's okay," he mimicked, and Derek surged into kiss Stiles again. Stiles made a wounded noise and just melted against him.

The silence didn't last long this time either. 

"We -" Stiles started, but Derek cut him off.

"Fucking hell, you really can't shut up, even when your mouth is busy."

Stiles glared. "What I was GOING to say was, we should relocate. As in to the couch. Or the bed."

Derek felt himself grow a rumble deep in his chest. 

"And, if you’re really so keen on getting me to shut up, you could try otherwise occupying my mouth." Stiles eyes were dark, and he rolled his hips forward to grind against Derek. Without hesitation, Derek lifted Stiles up and waited for him to wrap his legs around him. He walked them towards the bedroom, claiming Stiles' mouth again. He deposited him on the bed, probably gentler than the situation called for, and pressed Stiles into the mattress. Derek began trailing his lips down the Stiles' neck, biting occasionally, much to the pleasure and chagrin of his partner.

"I swear to fucking God - oh - if you leave any hickies - Jesus - I will kill you, Derek."

Derek felt a flare of - something - when Stiles said his name. "Do you want me to stop," he asked, mumbling against Stiles' skin. 

"Fuck you. No." Stiles gasped, fingers pulling almost painfully in Derek's hair. Derek loved it, and he latched his teeth again onto Stiles neck, making sure they stayed human.

‘You! Jackass!” Stiles gasped, and pushed Derek away. Derek leaned back, still over Stiles, their legs tangled up on the bed. 

“Why are you so goddamn hot, Christ,” Stiles said, looking at Derek in a way Derek didn’t know what to do with. So instead, he studied Stiles flushed skin and ripe, bitten lips. 

“You should talk, fucker, your mouth is unreal. And I don’t mean in the way that you never stop talking.” 

“Well are you just gonna stare at it or give it something better to do?”

Derek growled again and pulled Stiles up off the bed, yanking his shirt off. Stiles yelped in surprise, and then lifted his arms to aid the process. He then very pointedly started pulling at Derek’s shirt, and growled in annoyance when it came off.

“What?” Derek said, still breathing harder than normal. 

“You fuck. You absolute and utter fuck. I hate you,” Stiles said, and then latched his mouth on to one of Derek’s nipples. Derek inhaled sharply and gripped Stiles shoulders, not expecting the spike of heat to dart through his body. He arched his back into the sensation when Stiles rubbed the other nipple between his fingers, biting down slightly on the first.

“Looks like your mouth is good for something other than annoying the shit out of me,” he gasped, and Stiles pulled off with an obscene noise. 

“It’s good for a lot more than that, you furry asscake. Flip us over.”

“Or what?” Derek asked, but then looped an arm around Stiles back and flipped them in one smooth motion, landing with his back on the mattress and Stiles straddling his hips.

“Shit, that was insanely hot and totally unfair,” Stiles said, and started fumbling with Derek’s belt. 

“You’re concerned about FAIR? I’m a werewolf, Stiles.”

“Of that, you can be sure I’ll never forget. You and your stupid claws and eyebrow disappearing act and growly bullshit. Yep, got that ingrained in the memory here.”

The belt slipped free and Stiles hand was undoing the buttons and slipping inside Derek’s pants before Derek could react. He gasped out again when he felt Stiles’ hand on him, warm fingers strong and a self-satisfied smirk on his face. 

“Again with the lack of linguistics - you having trouble communicating, there, wolfy?”

“Just - mildly distracted and wondering - ah - what happened to the whole mouth argument because - while this is great - oooohhh…” 

Derek’s words trailed off as Stiles had pulled his pants and underwear down far enough to lick at Derek, wrapping the head in warm, wet heat and making his head fuzzy with pleasure. 

“You were saying?” Stiles said, laughter in his tone. Derek grabbed the back of his head and pushed him back down.

“You WEREN’T saying?” He demanded, needing more.

“You are such a controlling asshole,” Stiles said, but again licked Derek’s cock and then slid his lips all the way over it, down to the base. Derek was trying not to thrust upwards, the feeling almost overwhelming. 

“Jesus, have you fucking PRACTICED this shit?” Derek half asked, half moaned. 

Stiles merely hummed without removing his mouth. He began bobbing up and down and Derek could feel his orgasm building already.

“Shit, shit, holy shit,” he said, but couldn’t bear the thought of making Stiles stop just yet. Stiles, apparently, had other ideas. He pulled off with a smack and grinned like the devil.

“You shithead. I hate you, what the fuck are you doing?” Derek grabbed the back of Stiles head, pulling on his hair to drag him up and bite his lips. Stiles moaned, and dug his fingers into Derek’s shoulder.

“I was just THINKING that this could go - other places - as in - um -”

“I swear to God Stiles, unless you are suggesting I fuck you, you’d better shut up.”

Stiles eyes opened wide and his lips parted, giving Derek the urge to lean in again and taste. 

“Mhmm, mm,” Stiles said, which was good enough. Derek flipped them over again and pulled his pants and boxers all the way off, and started divesting Stiles of the same. 

“What the fuck is wrong with your belt,” Derek asked, trying to figure out what looked like a jigsaw puzzle holding Stiles pants together. 

“There’s a button on the - or not,” Stiles tried to say, and then gave up when Derek just cut through it with his claw. 

“Bastard. That was my favorite buckle, you better fucking buy me a new one - JESUS,” Stiles said, arching as Derek wrapped his fingers around him, slipping the other hand down to press against his hole. 

“OH my God oh my GOD,” Stiles said, whining and writhing with Derek’s touch.

“You like that, huh? God you sound like such a slut right now. You’re acting like one too, didn’t ever think you’d be so easy.”

“You should - ah! You should talk, dickhead. You leapt right out of those pants.”

“Leapt?”

“Yeah, leapt -” Stiles groaned in reaction to Derek pushing the tip of his finger in - “LEAPT, yeah, like a bunny to match your stupid bunny fangs.”

“Bunny fangs?” Derek didn’t know if he had the attention span to be offended.

“Those stupid cute front bunny teeth I don’t know how you pull them off - GODDAMN IT THAT’S COLD YOU ASSHOLE!”

Derek smiled wickedly, not caring that he had startled Stiles with the temperature of the lube. He slid his finger back in, and Stiles was so hot and tight he bit back a moan himself. Stiles, it seemed, did not have the same control. 

“Uhhhhhhhhhh,” he breathed. “Oh God, Derek, more, more - God yes...”

“So impatient,” Derek said, a smile still splitting his face. He was enjoying himself beyond belief, watching Stiles come apart beneath him, sweat starting to pool in the hollows of his collarbones. Derek leaned down and licked a stripe against Stiles’ open lips, making his breath hitch. He kissed Stiles again, harshly, trying to distract him as he pushed another finger inside, and then another, swallowing Stiles moans and reveling in the feeling of Stiles scraping his nails down his back and shoulders. 

“Shit,” he heard himself say when he pulled away. “You look like an ad for porn,” nodding down at Stiles, who had a blush that went all the way down his chest, apparently. Derek wanted to run his hands up and down and taste his skin.

So he did - they were already this far, there was no going back now.

“Deeer -” Stiles started, his voice getting high pitched at the end. “Oh my God..”

“Not quite,” Derek said, and came up to bite Stiles earlobe.

“That was the - uh - tackiest and worst thing you’ve ever said.”

“And that’s the second time you’ve implied you keep tabs on everything I say. How DO you do it?”

“Shut the fuck up and fuck me,” Stiles said, and scratched harshly on Derek’s shoulders. He probably cut skin, but it they both knew it would heal in seconds.

“I pity anyone who had to deal with you waiting for something, impatient little brat.”

“I pity anyone that had to wait for you to do something, old man. You’re like - oh god -”

Derek never found out what he was like, as he had slipped the head of his cock into Stiles, and THAT, he found, was the most effective way to make them both unable to speak. Or think. Or do anything - Derek was lost in tangible ecstasy. 

“Derek -” Stiles moaned, and Derek’s skin prickled with goosebumps. He sighed into the hollow of Stiles neck and pushed in further, slowly but surely, until he was buried in the sweet heat. Stiles clung to him, thighs spread wide and hands splayed over Derek’s back. They were just still for a moment, then Stiles shifted and Derek breathed out and began to thrust in and out. 

“Derek, Derek, god yes, right - oh GOD right there!”

Derek adjusted to hit the same spot over and over again, leaning back slightly to watch Stiles face, his mouth parted and eyes closed, pleasure and warmth written all over his features. Derek lifted a hand and cupped Stiles’ cheek, making Stiles open his eyes. His pupils were blown and he blinked once before Derek leaned in to kiss him.

It was too sweet and too much and Stiles suddenly and unexpectedly felt like he was tearing up. He couldn’t do that - this - this wasn’t - he didn’t know what this was, or how they had got here, but he had to do something fast before his emotions started spilling out of his mouth. He bit down on Derek’s lip, turning the kiss into something hard and demanding instead of the softness Derek had started with. Derek replied in kind, nipping Stiles’ mouth and growling while he began to thrust deeper, holding himself up on the bed with one hand and wrapping the other around Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles had both legs around Derek’s waist, linked loosely to allow space for Derek to slam into him again and again.

“Are you - are you close yet, you bastard?” Stiles managed, and Derek just grunted once nodded. Stiles wasn’t expecting the hand Derek had had on his shoulder to travel down and wrap around him, throbbing with heat and leaking with precum. He groaned at the contact, and it only took three pulls for him to be spilling all over Derek’s hand and his own stomach, the shock of his orgasm rolling through him and leaving him breathless. Derek began pushing harder, in and out, and Stiles wrapped his hand around Derek’s neck, bringing him down to whisper in his ear.

“Come on, Derek, come for me - come for me, baby.” And that was it. Derek’s breath left him in stuttered puffs as he shook, then stilled, then relaxed his weight on top of Stiles, staying inside him.

It was suddenly quiet and still, the only noise their mingled breath and the ticking of the clock against the far wall - Stiles hadn’t been aware of the noise until there was nothing left to drown it out. 

Eventually, though, they had to move.

“Der - uh, Derek. This is gonna get real uncomfortable soon.”

Derek just hummed in Stiles ear and began running his nose up and down Stiles’ jawline. 

“Good, you get even LESS verbal after sex. That’s great.”

Derek hummed again, as if to prove a point. He bit once, lightly, on Stiles’ shoulder, then lifted himself up, pulling out with a grimace - one that Stiles was sure he was mirroring. 

“I’ll get something, just - stay here,” Derek said, motioning a hand at Stiles. 

“Sure, sure.”

Derek walked to the bathroom and ran a washcloth under the sink. He caught his own gaze in the mirror and looked away quickly, not ready to answer any of the questions he found there. 

Stiles was in exactly the same position on the bed, legs spread and arms loose above his head, looking at the ceiling. Derek was struck with how beautiful he looked, and then he frowned at himself, berating a thought he didn’t know if he was allowed to have. 

“Why the face, sourwolf?” Stiles said, his voice more fond than in had been the whole time. Except when he had said _baby,_ Derek remembered. Yeah. About that.

“Here,” Derek said, offering the cloth. Stiles took it and dragged in over himself, wiping away the cum on his stomach. Derek wanted to take the cloth back and bury his face in it, but he resisted, letting the smell of the two of them in the air satisfy for now. When - if - when Stiles left, he would nose the sheets and taste them there. 

“Thanks,” Stiles said, and dropped in the on the floor. Derek huffed in annoyance but didn’t say anything, instead crossing his arms and staring at it. Stiles shifted on the bed, and waved a hand under Derek’s gaze, grabbing his attention.

“What are you doing? I’m cold,” Stiles said, and patted the bed next to him. Derek rolled his eyes and hoped that Stiles didn’t see the relief in his eyes. He slipped next to Stiles, who turned to his left, pulling Derek’s arm over him as they spooned. Stiles’ skin was warm, despite what he said, and he pulled the sheet at his feet over them, rubbing his nose against Stiles’ shoulder.

“So that was - new,” Stiles said, and Derek blew air out, smiling. He didn’t respond, but Stiles hadn’t expected him to.

“Sorry I - I didn’t think about - sorry. I called you - you know. It just happened.”

Derek’s smile faded, and he sat up, pulling Stiles over so he could look at his face.

“Calling me what? Baby?”

Stiles nodded, looking embarrassed, and tugged uselessly at Derek’s arm, trying to turn back away from him.

“Stiles,” Derek said, and Stiles tilted his face back towards him, enough for Derek to catch his lips in a soft kiss. Stiles sighed contentedly.

“Are you okay with all this?” Derek asked him, breaking the kiss.

“This? Yeah, like anyone would have not been okay with that.”

Derek grabbed his chin. “Stiles. Come on. I’m being serious. Are you - we - we didn’t really talk about this.”

“Okay, yeah, I’m fine with it, it was - I never thought - yes. Yes.”

Derek smiled again, and Stiles looked surprised, so he kissed him once more.

“Derek, can I - how - how long have you wanted to do that?”

“Kiss you?”

“Anything.”

Derek scrunched his eyebrows together, thinking.

“I don’t know. One day, you just - you said something. And. Yeah.”

“You are SO BAD WITH WORDS,” Stiles said, but he traced a finger over Derek’s eyebrow as he said it. Derek frowned, but relented his features and Stiles pushed and prodded his forehead back to smoothness.

“No, no, it’s okay, I like it.”

“I thought you said you didn’t like me,” Derek said, turning his face to kiss Stiles’ fingers. Stiles opened his mouth as if to speak, then blushed, beautifully. 

“Maybe that wasn’t true.” 

“That’s okay,” Derek said, kissing Stiles’ palm.

“Asshole,” Stiles said, but there was no sharpness to it. “You lied too.”

“Yeah,” Derek said, and loved the way that Stiles’ face lit up. He kissed him again, unable to resist. Then he lay his head down on the bed in the crook of Stiles’ shoulder and sighed contentedly. 

“Are you going to sleep? It’s like - 4 in the afternoon. Derek. Derek, come on,” Stiles said, pushing half-heartedly at him.

“Just a minute,” Derek said, not moving.

“Ugh. Is this how it’s gonna be, you keeping me captive because you’re too lazy to move?”

“Is this how it’s gonna be, you keeping me up with mindless chatter?”

“Again with the talking -”

“Again with the NOT SHUTTING UP.”

Stiles huffed and pushed again, but then stopped talking and moving around. He brought a hand up to trace absentmindedly across Derek’s back, and he made an appreciative sound.

“So. Can I call you that?”

“Call me what,” Derek said, words muffled by his position.

“Uh. Baby?”

Derek was still for a moment, and Stiles hand froze on his back.

“You’ve never let me stop you from giving me nicknames before,” Derek finally conceded, and Stiles scoffed.

“Sourwolf is different. I - I want to make sure it doesn’t bother you.”

Derek turned his head so he was talking right into Stiles’ ear. The other boy shivered. “You can call me whatever you want, baby.”

“Ugh. Don’t DO that unless you want round two.”

Derek started nibbling on Stiles’ lobe, mumbling, “What if I do?” He could already feel Stiles hardening underneath him.

“Uh, well, I mean, I wouldn’t be AVERSE to going - ah - again,” he said. “But I don’t know if you - uh - if we can do exactly that again. I’m - I’m -”

“I was thinking it was your turn to fuck me,” Derek said, speaking low in Stiles’ ear. He could hear Stiles’ heartbeat rocket, and he moved up so he could see his face.

“You - you - uh, I mean, sure. Yes. Hell fucking yes yes,” Stiles said, pushing at Derek’s chest. Derek laughed, and let himself be rearranged on the bed. Stiles was over him this time, and Derek ran his fingers up his slender chest.

“You’re so - goddamn it, Stiles. You are so - so -”

“Your turn to shut up. Kiss me, asshole.”

“You are such an immature dick.”

“You like it.”

“So do you.”

“It’s okay, I guess.”

“Shut up.”

 

\-------------

Afterwards, Derek holds Stiles’ hand in pack meetings and no one is surprised. Afterwards, Stiles’ spends more nights at the loft than at home. Afterwards, they are always wrapped up in each other, frustrating each other, getting the other one pissed as hell and making the other weak in the knees. Stiles never stops talking and Derek never uses his words. But as it turns out - that’s okay.

**Author's Note:**

> This has not been beta'd, so forgive any mistakes. I just had this scene stuck in my head for days and finally made myself sit down and write it. Enjoy!


End file.
